


do what you do

by dontlookatme



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Friends of Red Jenny, Gen, Nonbinary Character, elf squad, fenris is No Cis, idk what im doing tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontlookatme/pseuds/dontlookatme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fenris joins the friends of red jenny, or: i hammered out this weird fanfic of sera and fenris hanging out because i can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do what you do

He's weird.

Like... elfy, but not _too_ elfy, because all the swirly bits on him don't mean anything, nothing to do with demon rubbish or skipping through forests, and he says he's never skipped, _so stop asking grrrr_ , except she's seen him fight, wickedly fast like, well, a fast thing, and sort of spinning like something--oh, like an arrow! So, definitely a skipper then. Mind, Fenris is a bit of a grumpy and _I'm gonna stick my pointy fingers in your whatevers_ skipper, but good anyway, Sera thinks, under all that. Like an arrow.

Her mouth's gone all hot and fuzzy with cheap booze by the time she gets to his room over the tavern, and _whoof_ , she's seen better lodging in a flophouse, and smelt better in a sodding latrine. But Fenris just sits there, pretty as you please on a lumpy straw bed, cleaning away at his freaky gauntlets, like maybe his nose's no good, or, or, he's just sniffed _a lot_ of piss in his lifetime. Sera snorts at the thought.

"That doesn't bother you none?" she asks, smushing her flushed cheek against the doorway and cuddling her bottle of rotgut (pinched, because who would pay for the shite) between her tits. Safe and sound.

He sighs and drops the gauntlet in his lap. "And what would you be referring to?"

She makes a face. "Smells like a rotten arsehole in here, yeah?"

That earns her a quiet laugh, something fine but rarely used, like the itty teacups in Lady Emmald's cabinet. "I... can't say I'm familiar."

"Well, I've known lots of arseholes. _Both_ kinds!" And then Sera's darting across the room and flopping onto his bed in an untidy sprawl, all elbows and the sourness of her own sweat. "And they all fucking stink from here to the Black City. Euuurgh."

Fenris tenses, his silvery marks flickering like torchlight in the dark, and carefully scoots away. Oh, right. He's got a thing about touching, like Sera's got a thing about touching, only hers goes the other way,  right, and it's not like she's looking for a tumble or anything, even though she's seen him down to the skin by now, and those fancy tattoos really go _eeeverywhere_. Anyway, he's got all the same fun bits she does, but he's not a lady, so. Not interesting, _not_ interested.

She swigs the rotgut and shudders as it burns all the way down, then traces a couple squiggly lines under her chin like the ones on his own. "You sure that's not magic?"

The look on his face could blister her skin. "I'm no mage, as I've said before," he growls, because that's just how he talks, she guesses, low and rumbly like something's stuck in his throat, and the word are too big for his mouth. "The comparison displeases me as much as it did the last time you asked. And yet you persist."

Sera shrugs, shutting one eye and squinting through the other. "Well, what else is it? Because it scares the piss out of me every time I see you do it. You know the--" She makes a fist and punches the air, letting out a gurgling noise like a man dying. "Oh, yeah, _that_ thing."

He hesitates, then gestures for the bottle, which she grudgingly passes up. "First, I'll be needing this."

Andraste's soggy _tits_ , he knocks it back like it doesn't taste like piss and oil, and she's so stunned she almost forgets she asked a question, because he's opening his mouth and there's words falling out everywhere except into her ears, but they don't make a lot of sense. _Oof_ , she doesn't like complicated, not a bit, especially not when she's drunk as tits. Ruins the whole thing, really. 

"Right, so," Sera snatches the bottle back, careful to not touch his fingers. "Not mage stuff, but not magic stuff either, not real magic, but sort of Veil-y anyway? Whatever that means."

Fenris nods slowly. "Whatever that means. Truth be told, I've never desired to learn much about... these." His fingers ghost over the lyrarum or whatever scars running up his arm and his all over. "Knowing would change nothing."

At least that makes two of them that don't have a nugshit clue then. If he laughed at her instead, at that big knot inside her that gets cold and tight when she doesn't get it, she just can't, _can't_ , then. She'd go, right? Probably try to kick him between the legs first, but she'd leave all the same. Let him sort out Red Jenny for himself, or go back to hacking slavers to bits, pining for some bird that flapped away, whatever.

"Still scary, though," she admits quietly.

"I can be nothing else," he says, just as soft.

Well, that's no good. Now they're sitting around all dreary bleary but--

Sera guffaws and shakes the bottle of rotgut under his nose. "Wrong! You can be completely off your tits, drunk as a lord until the sun comes up."

He cracks a smile then, like it hurts his face, but it's real, and that means they're getting somewhere.

" _Age quod agis_ ," he tells her, because, again, he's sodding weird.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just an idea i've been playing around with, nothing meaningful or plotty, but i'd think they'd make great friends.


End file.
